


Set Me Free

by natalievenom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demonic Possession, Gen, Short One Shot, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1542110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalievenom/pseuds/natalievenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is life like for someone taken over by a demon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Me Free

Sometimes my cell was dark.

No sound.

No emotion.

No touch.

No sight.

I lost all sense of myself.

Who I was.

Who I used to be.

Who I wanted to become. 

At first I had fought bitterly against the darkness. I had shrieked, cried and clawed away. I had tried to regain some sense of myself, some purpose. Now I craved that peace. Those precious moments when I was tuned out and everything just disappeared.

I hated the light.

I heard their screams.

I felt the guilt.

I crushed the life out of them.

I saw their final moments.

I became a monster.

But it wasn't me.

It wasn't who I had been before.

It wasn't what I wanted to remain.

The creature inside of me killed without mercy, smiling with my mouth and laughing with my voice as it continued to take the lives of the innocent. It mocked me, it knew that I could see and hear everything, and that I was powerless to stop it. A captive in my own body, I sobbed alone in the prison of my mind and prayed that I might be set free.

I clung to the thoughts of my family. My sweet little brother with his bright green eyes, always so happy to see me and tell me about his day at school. I thought of my mother when she made pancakes on Sunday mornings, with smudges of flour on her clothes, and always one on her cheek that she made worse when she tried to remove it. And I thought of my father who was often stern, but able to give the warmest and most awkward hugs whenever he saw me cry.

Even those memories weren't private.

It mocked, and laughed, and reminded me that I would never see them again. It dragged up the memories I wanted to block out.

I had killed them.

The image of the light fading from those glinting emerald eyes broke me down all over again. My salvation gone, I was reduced to the cowering creature it wanted me to be. I hid, and I cried, and I hoped that I could die soon. That someone would put me out of my misery.

That someone had green eyes too.

Helpless, I watched as the demon snapped the neck of a police officer. It taunted the man, it said that the Winchesters were not as impressive as it had been led to believe. I didn't know who they were, but they must have been people of note if the demon knew them. He swore at me, called me a bitch, and said he'd take pleasure in killing me. I felt something at those words. It wasn't fear.

Hope.

Even with some Hell spawn inside of me, my body just wasn't capable of matching the man in physical combat. The demon put up a good fight, throwing a few punches, slashing with a knife, and taking the hits like a champ. Then the man sank something into my abdomen. It wasn't like any other weapon, this one burnt like a fire. The heat coursed through my veins, purging the parasite from within me, searing my very bones as the plumes choking me were ignited. My body crumpled to the ground and for the first time in far too long, I felt the pain of the impact.

“Dean, I think she's alive,” the man he had called Sam lay me on my back and supported my head. I felt his fingers in my hair, really felt them. They were gentle and reassuring, and I couldn't help but smile.

“Hey, hey,” Dean snapped his fingers in front of my face to keep me focussed, “What's your name?”

“Angela,” it felt so wonderful to call myself that again, “I'm Angela.”

“Okay, you stay with us Angela, we're going to get you help,” he placed one of Sam's large hands over the injury, “Don't let her bleed out.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, breathing in the sweet, free air.

“Don't you thank us yet,” Dean warned while he fumbled with his phone, “Wait until you're suckin' on some hospital food through a straw.”

“Keep your eyes open,” Sam implored, “You got this, Angela. We're not going anywhere, we're going to save you.”

“You did.”

Sometimes my cell was dark.

No sound.

No emotion.

No touch.

No sight.

I lost all sense of myself.

Who I was.

Who I used to be.

Who I wanted to become. 

Not any more.

I welcomed the light.

I heard their gentle voices.

I felt happy.

I let my life slip away.

I saw them in my final moments.

I wasn't a monster.

I was finally free.

“Dean,” Sam said from somewhere very far away, “She's gone.”


End file.
